The Dungeons Should Do
by Swallow B
Summary: After the battle, Wilhelmina Grubbly-Plank returns to Hogwarts. Based on the movie version.


The Dungeons Should Do

For Kelly Chambliss

Characters belong to JK Rowling. The basic plot is from the film version of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.

**Warning: **Minerva/Wilhelmina pairing, Kelly Chambliss oblige. (… Oh, all right, I _enjoyed_ writing this, don't blame Kelly.)

ooo

Their owls had nearly collided in mid-flight. Which wouldn't have been a good thing, as they had met over the channel. But Minerva's large school owl and Wilhelmina's faithful Angie were seasoned travellers.

The messages were brief.

"Are you alive? - Will"

"It's over. – Minerva"

Wilhelmina Grubbly-Plank had packed her baggage together with her guilt, shrunk them and hidden them in one of her large pockets. Then she had taken leave of the witches' hotel in Paris where she had spent the last nine months of the war.

When the first anonymous letter had reached Wilhelmina, advising her to "go back to the filthy Muggles in your filthy country, Mudblood", Minerva had urged her to leave Britain.

"I'll be all right," Minerva had said.

Wilhelmina had doubted that, but she had also known Minerva would die rather than leave Hogwarts in Death Eaters' hands. What had decided her to go was that Minerva didn't need to worry about her on top of everything else.

Wilhelmina hadn't followed the anonymous advice. She hadn't returned to the land of her birth. It held too many painful memories. Instead, she had taken refuge in Paris. Together with her guilt.

Now time had really come to leave. Animal healers in Paris were beginning to resent Wilhelmina's unofficial competition.

Secure in the thought that the French unicorns would survive without her, Wilhelmina had Apparated to Calais, boarded the Knight Ferry to Dover and Apparated to Hogsmeade in a few hours.

.

Last time Wilhelmina had walked through Hogsmeade, she had been on her way to Dumbledore's funeral. Hogsmeade had been a sorry sight then, but now it looked like a ghost village. Reporters and battle-field tourists on their way to Hogwarts were the only ones passing through the streets, under the curious gaze of wandering chickens and stray cats.

When Wilhelmina reached the castle, she saw it as the Muggles did: a huge crumbling ruin. Echoes of the tremendous magic forces that had shaken the night reverberated more and more strongly through the air as Wilhelmina got closer.

Were the unicorns still alive? The Hippogriffs, the Thestrals, the Nifflers?

The students?

The great iron gates between the tall pillars no longer existed. All that was left of the wall that had protected the school was a jumble of stones scattered around the grounds. Nothing and no one prevented Wilhelmina from walking in and making her way up the path towards the lake.

The Thestrals were all right. They had wandered on to the grounds, drawn to the smell of fresh blood.

The giant squid was all right.

A white Hippogriff trotted towards her. They bowed to each other. Wilhelmina opened her mouth to greet him, but only a faint croak came out.

Take a grip, Will, she mentally admonished herself, stroking the Hippogriff.

"The Hippogriffs are all righ'."

Hagrid's voice startled her.

"Dunno about the unicorns. Could be the centaurs took'em away."

"And… " She swallowed, in an effort not to croak. "And everyone else?"

"Can't say everyone is all righ'. A lot of… it's bin horrible."

He shook his head and walked away, to avoid having to explain in what ways "it" had been horrible.

A pile of stones led to the gaping hole that had taken the place of the entrance doors.

Inside the castle, a ragged crowd was sitting, drinking, crying, hugging and, it seemed, sleepwalking.

Wilhelmina spotted Her tall figure immediately, straight as a wand, moving majestically from one group to another.

A queen warrior on the battle field.

A seventy-two year old woman who had been fighting all night.

Wilhelmina slowly edged forward between the mourners and the rejoicers. But someone else reached her first, a haggard looking man who, according to Minerva's description, must be Horace Slughorn, the old-new Head of Slytherin.

"M-Minerva, two of my s-students are missing," Wilhelmina heard him stammer.

"Only two?" snapped Minerva. "Well, I have seen no Slytherins among the dead."

Shoulders slouching, Slughorn turned away.

"Horace!" she called him back.

"I'm sorry. Let's go and see if they are in the hospital wing."

"Who's missing?" asked Wilhelmina sharply.

"Wilhelmina!" cried Minerva in the tone Colombus's crew must have had, when they called "land ho!"

"Z-Zabini and Goyle," stammered Slughorn, distractedly watching Wilhelmina and Minerva's hands reaching out and plugging in to each other.

"Where are the others?" asked Wilhelmina. "The Slytherins?"

"I sent them to the dungeons," murmured Minerva. Wilhelmina couldn't understand why she sounded so guilty. What was she supposed to have done, sent them to You Know Who?

"They're safe," said Slughorn piteously.

"And resentful, no doubt," added Minerva.

Wilhelmina looked from one to the other and decided now was not the time for questions.

Slughorn had begun to climb what was left of the stairs to the hospital wing. Minerva followed him, dragging Wilhelmina along.

Beds overflowed in the corridor leading to the hospital wing. Students, staff and people Wilhelmina had never met were moaning, crying, demanding attention. It took them a while to locate Poppy Pomfrey, who was moving briskly and calling orders in a crisp voice.

"Aurora, blood replenisher please. Irma, get a bed for Miss Spinnet. Zabini, did you give Macmillan a painkiller?"

"He won't take it."

Zabini didn't look injured, apart from burns on his hands. His face was grey and expressionless and so was the tone of his voice. His sleeves were singed on the edges.

Poppy clucked impatiently, but Wilhelmina wasn't surprised. Even the animals knew not to accept anything from Zabini.

"Blaise, m'boy!"

Slughorn's face had lit up.

"Why aren't you in the dungeons?"

Zabini turned away. The light went out in Slughorn's round face.

"Blaise, what happened?"

"Where is Goyle?" asked Minerva.

Zabini looked as if he was choking. Then he turned abruptly, gave her a look of icy hatred and spat out,

"He's dead, all right?"

"Dead?" repeated Slughorn.

"Why aren't you in the dungeons?" said Minerva.

"Oh, right, 'the dungeons should do!'" He was clearly trying to imitate her. "You thought you could coop us up in there like chickens?"

"Excuse me?"

"Blaise, you can't talk like that to the Headmistress!"

"Or else what?"

"Blaise!"

"Goyle's dead, Malfoy's going to be arrested and the others are all locked in the dungeons!"

"And you?"

"Goyle's dead, go and tell Crabbe!"

"Blaise, m'boy…"

"It's very helpful of you to lend a hand to Madam Pomfrey, Zabini," said Minerva hesitantly.

"The Dark Lord's dead, Professor Snape's dead… and Madam Pomfrey is a Slytherin," Zabini rambled on.

"Slytherin or not, there's work to be done, Zabini! Either you calm down or you go back to the dungeons with Professor Slughorn," snapped Poppy.

Zabini looked at her in horror.

"Personally, I am grateful for all I can get until St Mungo's send us the help they promised," she added in a softer voice.

"Let them sort things out among Slytherins, Minerva," advised Wilhelmina quietly.

Zabini took a step backwards. He hadn't noticed Professor Grubbly-Plank was there.

"It will do him good to give a hand at healing," she added, as they walked down the stairs. I always had to watch out for that boy with the animals. Pointless cruelty. I never could understand it.'

Minerva sighed heavily.

"I wonder what happened to Goyle."

"Fire, by the look of Zabini's clothes."

"I would find it horrible, you know… if I hadn't seen so many worse things."

A sudden clamour and clattering of feet up the stairs told them the long awaited help had arrived from St Mungo's.

"Headmistress."

The head healer bowed to Minerva.

She nodded tiredly.

Her eyes met Wilhelmina's. They were so full of longing that Wilhelmina reached out. Minerva stiffened.

"Not here."

Her gaze darted around. The castle was full of running healers, euphoric youngsters, devastated mourners and overwhelmed staff.

Wilhelmina winked understandingly.

"The dungeons should do," she whispered.

ooo

The idea of Wilhelmina spending the war in Paris and hints about her past were borrowed from Tetleybag's stories, 'Sous le Ciel' and 'Witch Night'.


End file.
